As the Wheel Turns
by renegadeartist413
Summary: Years ago Hunters were the only thing that stood between the Grimm and humanity's destruction. Now, they are little more than legends and Grimm are no longer the threats they used to be. So what does this have to do with two girls meeting by chance as children and then again, once they've grown up? (AU)


**Hello and welcome to this... adventure.**

 **A few notes before we get started: First, this chapter is meant to be a prologue and they won't stay kids forever, so sorry if that's what you were hoping for. Second, this chapter is also to see how people respond to this AU, so I don't have a set update schedule yet, sorry in advance. Third, this is my first time posting on this site so feel free to tell me if I messed up formatting or something, this system is new to me.**

 **Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

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The places she frequented were usually reserved for the upper class, and if she'd been just a little bigger or a little more noticeable chances were she would have been caught and thrown in the closest jail before she could even try to explain herself. But, as it was, she was just small enough to squeeze through the long skirts of ladies and pressed pants of gentlemen. She had learned early on how to sneak through the shadows that were cast by the setting sun and how to walk through a store like she was supposed to be there.

She had learned how to slip her hands into purses and pockets and withdraw any and all treasures that could be found inside. Sometimes, though these were surprisingly scarce and far between, they were random odds and ends, things that weren't actually worth anything except to the person they belonged to. She supposed she should have felt guilty for taking these things from the well-dressed strangers that walked briskly down the cobbled road, but the stark truth of the situation was that she simply wasn't.

When she scored something that couldn't be pawned off for a high price Adam let her keep it. He, of course, expected her to throw it in the street or leave it somewhere, but she kept them all crammed in a small wooden box in her room. Sometimes she would sift through them and wonder what they meant to the person she'd taken them from. Among other things there was a worn photograph of a woman with dark hair and a bright smile, and Blake liked to imagine that her mother looked something like that.

There was a silver watch that was perpetually stuck at 2:10, with the second hand twitching back and forth as if it was debating whether or not it was worth it to keep the time. What must have once been a delicate engraving of a rose had been rubbed away and dented to the point where it was almost impossible to open the actual watch. In fact she had only managed to pry it open with the small knife she used to slit purses.

There were broken chains of jewelry, pieces of paper with words on them that she couldn't read but hoped to someday be able to, burnt out containers of dust, matches and pipes and broken things that she didn't know the names of. There was a small compact mirror in a bare case and she liked to stare at herself sometimes. She liked to study the way her hair fell and how her eyes seemed to glow in the dark and how the small, pointed cat ears almost hidden by her hair twitched with every small noise. Someone might have called this habit vain, but somehow it wasn't. Maybe it was the large eyes of a child searching her own appearance for something to hint at where she'd come from, maybe it was the dark hair that must have come from one of her parents or the grimy skin that she scratched at with old rags, trying to bring back the somehow even smaller girl who had stumbled into this place, looking for somewhere to call home.

She wasn't ungrateful for Adam, no, that wasn't it. She couldn't thank him enough for what he'd done, bringing her into his... organization, as he called it. He'd saved her from the streets and taught her how to survive in a world that hated her kind. He taught her to understand the meaning of that word, the one used to describe the way people spat at her and looked down their noses at her when they had to talk to her. It seemed the only people who could look at her with anything but contempt were the ones like her, with tails and ears and horns. Adam had taught her that word, too. Faunus.

But still, she remembered a little of a time before her small room - more of a cupboard really - that Adam had given her. She remembered siting by a fire and a woman in a rocking chair humming a song that she still remembered. The woman's face was blurred and gone, but she still felt the arms holding her and the rumbling of a chest as a deep voice spoke quietly to her. She liked to remember those small snippets instead of the more recent ones. The ones where someone was screaming and yelling and the wood under her bare feet scorched and burned and collapsed and she had to drag her way somewhere not there.

She remembered collapsing on the steps of a Maiden's temple, a tall man taking pity on her and tending to the burns on her feet and the terrible gash on her arm. She'd taken to wearing a handkerchief around that particular scar, and one was hard pressed to find her not wearing socks, even if they were a luxury for someone in her position. Still, though, she didn't like to dwell on the past, even if it always did come crawling back to her.

In years to come, though she didn't yet know it, she'd peek behind the curtains of the White Fang and see it for what it was, though that was years in the future. Now, though, all she saw was a family of people like her that would support her and take care of her if she ever needed it. She didn't see the mask Adam always wore, only the young gentleman that had given her a new home, but eventually all masks break.

There was a sudden knocking on the door to her room and she scrambled to put her box of trinkets away. She just managed to shove it under the loose floorboard she usually hid it in before the door was wrenched open and Adam stood there, a carefully blank look on his face, as was normal for him.

"Blake, what have I told you about sleeping in?"

She felt her face get red in embarrassment and averted her gaze to the ground, fiddling with her hands and twisting them up in the worn blankets on her bed.

"Come on, get up. You've got work to do."

She mumbled something that may have been, "Yes, Adam," but there was no guarantee. She was grateful towards Adam, but that didn't mean he didn't scare her at times. She'd seen other members endure his shouting and "punishments." She didn't want to become one of them, so she shut the door carefully and changed out of the large shirt she wore to bed and slipped on her normal black clothes that hung off her body in a way that probably wasn't healthy.

Slowly she pushed her door open again and stepped out into the hallway. There wasn't a lot of people about at this time in the morning, as she preferred not to be out too late at night and therefore got an early start, but it wasn't long before she heard the telltale sound of running feet and had to launch herself out of the way of two kids about her age running down the hall.

"Whoops, sorry, Blake!" One of them yelled as she hissed in annoyance. He skidded to a stop suddenly, causing the other girl chasing him to topple into him, an event that ended up with both of them in a pile of limbs.

"AH! Why'd you have to stop?!" the girl yelled, springing to her feet immediately, her light orange tail flicking in annoyance. "Don't be such a monkey brain, Sun! I thought we were having fun!" The girl suddenly giggled and clapped her hands. "Did you hear that? I rhymed! I wasn't even trying to do that!"

The boy, who was still on the ground, rolled his eyes. "Yes, Neon, I heard it. Don't you have someone else to bother? Didn't Adam ask you to see him for something?"

Neon suddenly went rigid, her eyes wide, before she abruptly sprung back to life, rushing down the hallway, shouting over her shoulder, "Oh yeah, bye Sun! See you later!"

"Bye Neon!" he called after her as he slowly stood up and brushed himself off. Still standing near her door, Blake had to press her hands over her mouth to hide her smile. Sun glared at her.

"So..." Blake said, starting to walk down the path Neon had run down. "What are you going to do today?"

"Probably steal some more fruit from the market on Ember Avenue. Pickpocket a few saps while I'm there, too."

Blake nodded along, only half paying attention. She was trying, really, but she just couldn't focus. There were too many things in her head, all bouncing around and not letting focus on anything else. She didn't doubt it had come from thinking about her past again. She could still smell the old temple, pinecones and baking bread and cinnamon. She still heard the soft voice of the priest there who introduced himself with a smile and told her she could call him whatever she liked. She remembered when she'd left, feeling like she'd overstayed her welcome and had to find somewhere to go where she wasn't a burden. Thankfully Adam had taken her in and given her a job to do, but she still constantly felt a lingering guilt for leaving that priest without a farewell. She could only hope what she was planning to do today would help with that.

They passed the doors and stairs of the building the White Fang lived in. Blake could hear snores and snorts and, though it was rare this time of the morning, shouting and things breaking. She knew most of the people who lived in the building, by face and quirks if not by name.

There was a tall man with light and wild hair and startling green eyes that had a strange accent not native to the city and that liked to play the victim even if he wasn't. There was a petite young lady with bright eyes and white teeth that liked to pat Blake on the head every time they passed each other. There was a sullen man with green hair and bandages wrapped around his head that tried to smile but it never quite reached his dark blue eyes. She wondered what had happened to him to make him look that way. Maybe she'd ask him someday.

Sun was still talking as they rounded a corner and Blake almost got a face full of feathers when the man with the wild hair turned a corner and squawked, "Whoops! Sorry, luv, wasn't watching where I was going!" before quickly scurrying away, his hands curled around something Blake couldn't see. She shrugged and kept walking. It wasn't her business, though she'd be lying if she said she wasn't at least a bit curious.

Finally they made it to the kitchens where Sun broke off with a grin and a, "See you later, Blake," as he swung up one of the ceiling high shelves and grabbed a banana from a basket on a shelf that was normally too high for him to reach and was out and in the city before Blake could really process that she had been left alone. She blinked and shrugged and continued on.

She grabbed two slices of bread from one of the tables set up for a meeting of high ranking White Fang members and glanced around furtively before spooning some tuna onto the bread and pressing the other piece on top, hoping no one would walk in unannounced and catch her in the act. Her improvised sandwich assembled she rushed out a side door and into the city, leaving behind the worn walls and dusty floors of the White Fang base and onto the streets of Vale.

The neighborhood the building was in was in what could only be described as ruins, though most people just called them slums, signs of old shops drooping down to the ground. The wood of the false fronts of shops was splintering and the paint was chipping, and yet if you looked close enough you could see figures huddled into blankets through the windows and in back alleys and every so often there was a building with a light in the window and relatively new paint on the wood.

Blake pushed into one such shop, breathing in the smell of the old books and smoke from dust lamps. She shoved a portion of her sandwich into her mouth and walked up to the front desk, her head just barely poking over the top. She stood on her toes and rang the bell placed firmly on the wood and waited. She finished her sandwich and wished she had more but wasn't willing to go back home yet.

She walked up to a bookshelf close by, running her finger over the spines of books and wondered what the words embedded into the leather said. She could only imagine, stories of knights and monsters and Maidens. There were probably ones about Dust and Grimm and the lost city, about the history of Remnant and how the four kingdoms had been founded who knew how long ago to protect against the Grimm, only for them to be suddenly driven away and for humanity to construct a relative peace with their soulless neighbors.

From what she'd heard the Grimm used to be a bigger problem. It used to be hard to move two feet outside of the kingdom's walls without being attacked. She had heard about the ones that fought the Grimm, once. The Hunters and Huntresses of the Old Days. They had, of course, fallen out of practice in favor of strict militaries and rendered obsolete by less Grimm, but that didn't mean there weren't excessive legends about them. One of the most popular was the Rose and the Three Ursas, though Blake found she liked the Shadow and the Beast the best. Blake wasn't entirely sure what had ended the Hunters, nor what had cut down the Grimm population so drastically. It was something she'd have to ask Tuckson sometime, though she wasn't sure if he knew either.

Speaking of...

"Blake?" the owner of the bookshop called out fondly, leaning over the counter and offering the small Faunus a raised eyebrow. "Interested in buying anything this time?" he joked.

Blake smiled a small smile and shook her head. "No. I can't read and I don't have any way to pay you." Both were true, though Blake could read just a little bit. Enough to read the street signs she mostly just remembered and a few simple words, like her name. The second point was wholly true, though. While she was given a room and food she didn't get any of the money from her thieving, that all went to Adam. It hadn't yet occurred to her that she could keep a little at a time for herself, Adam being none the wiser.

"Then what are you doing here?" Tuckson prompted, barely concealing his concern, though Blake wasn't old enough yet to recognize the look in his eyes as concern.

Blake shuffled a bit and dipped her head down, not willing to look up at Tuckson. "I... I wanted to ask you if you could write me a letter."

Tuckson raised an eyebrow. "Write you a letter...? Like, a letter to you? Or from you to someone else?"

"S-someone else," Blake stuttered out, barely above a whisper. If Tuckson wasn't a faunus as well he probably wouldn't have heard her.

"Yeah? And who is this mystery person? And what would you want me to say to them?"

"I- it's to someone who took care of me for a while. I left without saying goodbye and I wanted to let him know I'm alright." She swallowed before adding, "And to say thanks."

She didn't say anything about the circumstances, she didn't mention her childhood home going up in flames, her parents with it, or the dark night on the street before the priest found her and treated her burns and showed her more kindness then she'd seen since. Adam was nice, but he wasn't kind, not the way that old priest was.

"And why couldn't you just tell him yourself?" Blake just shuffled awkwardly, not looking up. She wasn't sure how to convey the multitude of reasons that she just couldn't. She couldn't express how she couldn't bear to see the look on the priest's face if he ever saw her again, because she was scared he would be happy. She couldn't explain how if she ever did stand face to face with him again she was scared she wouldn't have the bravery to leave. She couldn't express how much she hated being a burden and how at least with Adam she had a job to do.

She must have stood there for too long because Tuckson sighed and there was the sound of shuffling paper.

Blake chanced a glance up and saw Tuckson staring at her, his right hand holding an ink pen above a piece of paper and staring at her expectantly. He made a motion with the hand holding the pen that Blake took to mean, "Well, go on then."

"U-uh... s-say, I'm sorry I left without telling you, but I found a place to live and nice friends and I have a job to do and- and... uh..." Blake trailed off, feeling her face get hot. She was never the best with words. "A-and I'm doing fine. S-sign it with my name, too."

Tuckson nodded, his pen moving over the paper quickly, but even so it seemed like he was writing a lot more than what Blake had actually said. When he was done he blew lightly on the paper to dry the ink before folding it in half and slipping it into an envelope. "Who should I make it out to?"

It took Blake a moment to realize what that meant. "U-uh, O-Ozpin. His name's Ozpin."

Tuckson blinked and looked like he was about to say something before deciding against it. With one more motion he addressed the envelope and handed it over to Blake.

"Anything else I can do for you this fine morning, Miss Blake?"

"U-uh, no, thank you so much but I think I should get going," she forced out in one breath. Before she could hear his reply she had bolted outside of the old shop and ran a block down the street.

Her hands crinkled the envelope, the symbols on the front meaning almost nothing to her, except she was certain that one of them was an "O" and the other an "N" and while she didn't think Tuckson would try to fool her she took a little pride in the fact that she could identify those letters at least. She took a deep, calming breath, and prepared herself for what she was planning to do.

She carefully placed the envelope into the bag she always kept slung around her shoulders but hidden under the long coat she wore when it was cold out. A frigid wind chose that moment to sweep through the mostly empty buildings and straight through her skin. She shivered violently, pulling a hat out of her bag and tucked her ears under it. Somewhere in the distance she could have sworn she heard a beowolf howl. She took another calming breath before she started walking.

It wasn't long before she was out of the ruins where the poor lived and into the bustling markets that made up the outer streets of Vale. Not forgetting her job every so often, if someone passed wearing something to indicate wealth, she'd dip her hands into their coat pockets or slice their purses and collect the coins that fell out. It wasn't too often that she did this, as there normally wasn't a lot of wealthy people around these particular markets. They were usually near the clothing shops and well-kept groceries that were more common near the center of the city and near the mansions.

It wasn't long before she found herself in front of a temple, this one specifically built for the Fall Maiden. She was, as she'd heard Ozpin explain many times, a protector. He'd explained what each Maiden stood for and looked over. They were all protectors, in their own ways, but if you were to pray for protection you would pray to the Fall Maiden. There were strings of things that were tacked on to each Maiden and prayers that went along with those things. Sometimes they were broad, sometimes specific, and sometimes Blake wasn't quite sure what their aim was.

There were prayers that were songs and songs that sounded like prayers. There were ones with big words she didn't understand and others made specifically for children.

She could remember one Ozpin sang to her constantly. He wasn't the best of singers, but he also wasn't terrible. Every time he sang it, though, she got the strangest feeling that she'd heard it somewhere before. Maybe in the old house that had burned away along with the few years of actual childhood. As Blake walked up the steps of the temple she sang quietly.

"As the new green buds grow on the trees,

As mothers and fathers beget sisters and brothers,

As warriors and hunters march home across the seas,

Keep the children safe, just like all the others,

And guide them through sadness and troubles,

And keep them away from all my struggles."

She settled herself in one of the benches in the temple, way in the back where no one else was sitting. There were a few other people, some of them families, though most people were trickling out slowly, as a service had just ended. She let herself relax for a precious moment, taking in the familiar sights and smells. Before long, though, she knew she had to get up.

She made her way to the front, where there was a family standing near the donations box talking to a young acolyte Blake didn't recognize. She glanced around, smiling slightly as her eyes flitted over paintings of the four Maidens and the candles that seemed to always be burning. She felt well and truly peaceful for the first time in quite a while. Though, of course that meant she had to be rudely shocked out of her peace by a young, prissy voice saying, "What are you staring at?"

Blake blinked and looked next to her, where there was a girl about her age standing with her hands curled into fists and placed on her hips. Her hair was white, as were the clearly expensive clothes she was wearing. Her eyes were a pale, watery blue, and there was something about her that didn't seem as icy as the front she was working so hard to create.

"The Maidens," Blake replied simply.

The other girl glanced behind her at two adults and one teenager that Blake assumed was her family. They were deep in conversation with the acolyte and didn't seem to particularly care where their youngest had run off to. "Well I think this is all really stupid."

Blake opened her mouth to reply, probably to defend the Maidens. She'd gained a healthy respect for them after her stay with Ozpin and it felt wrong to just let someone talk about the Maidens like that, but the other girl wasn't finished yet.

"It's all just silly stories and fake magic. I don't see how people can think talking to a painting and lighting a few candles can save them from... uh... from whatever it is they're so worried about!"

It was clear, though maybe not to Blake at this moment in time, that the other girl was getting something off her chest that had been bothering her for a long time. She was saying things to a complete stranger because everyone she knew would have given her a smack for saying anything similar. In fact, she halfway expected the small, dark girl she'd chosen to talk to to turn around and give her a red mark for her words. However, she just blinked slowly and said, "It's not the paintings they pray to. It's the Maidens."

"Well I don't see any Maidens around here except those," she pointed at the paintings. "And they're not about to spring to life and grant everyone's wishes."

Recalling something Ozpin had said to her, Blake opened her mouth and replied with, "It's the idea they pray to. It gives people hope that there's something more than just all this in the world." She made a vague gesture to try to convey the suffering and poverty she saw almost every day that had become normal to her. There was a small part of her that knew it shouldn't be, though. A tiny part that she couldn't voice or understand because she was too young.

The other girl sent Blake a strange look. She muttered, "I still think it's stupid," and crossed her small arms over her chest. They stood in silence for a minute, the other girl glaring up at the paintings while Blake stared at the girl.

She was obviously rich, that much was painfully obvious. A part of Blake wanted to "accidentally" bump into her while walking past and taking all she had in her pockets, but the more prevalent part of her was reminded of the Maidens watching, and with a strange certainty Blake knew she wouldn't.

Despite the girl being rich, though, she didn't look happy. Quite the opposite, actually, though Blake had never seen the look she wore perpetually on her face on any other person she'd talked to. In years to come she'd be able to read it as unsatisfied and scared, something people wore when they wished for a different life despite being one of the fortunate people in the world, with money and power and a future. But currently, standing underneath the seasons personified, all Blake knew for certain was that the girl was quite a bit annoying.

"I'm Weiss, by the way," the girl said, almost as an afterthought, though Blake could see the hope in her eyes. Just what that hope was for, she didn't know, but it loosened her tongue and Blake found herself answering.

"Blake," she said with a small, nervous smile, and stuck her hand out to shake, which was another odd thing.

Weiss may have been annoying, but she was different then the other kids in the White Fang. Different in a way that Blake welcomed, different in a way that she hoped to learn more about one day, even if it meant listening to the high pitched voice for hours on end.

Unfortunately that hope was dashed as a large hand clamped on Weiss's shoulder and a deep voice said, "Time to go now, Weiss. Say goodbye to the street rat."

The man talking seemed to look down his nose at Blake, a barely concealed sneer fighting to break out from under his mustache. He guided Weiss away and Blake could have sworn she saw a flash of fear as she waved timidly at the faunus girl. And within a few more seconds they were gone and Blake felt strangely disappointed.

"Hello, was there something you needed? Are you lost?" the young acolyte asked Blake, making her jump a foot off the ground.

She spun around, all thoughts of the strange, rich family gone from her mind. "I- I- um," Blake said, not being able to force out the necessary words. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope as well as a few lien coins before bolting out of the temple before she lost the ability to leave.

A few hours later she was twisting though velvet coats and top hats, stealing valuables and wondering if life would ever be anything more.


End file.
